Happy Is What Happens?
by wickeduk
Summary: A oneoff. What if Elphaba got exactly what she wanted? What if she got degreenified?


-------------------------------------------

**A/N:** Okay, so I know I should be updating 'Dear Old Shiz', but I seem to be suffering from Writers Block on that one. This one however, just popped randomly into my head and needed to be written! I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Wicked, but I like to think I own Elphie's thoughts in this one though! ;-)

-------------------------------------------

**Happy Is What Happens…**

Happy is what happens when all your dreams come true… Isn't it?

I thought so, but now I'm beginning to doubt the wisdom of that statement.

For so long I have wanted to rid myself of the skin condition that had plagued me since birth. My father had always ignored me, blaming me for my outwards appearance, as though I purposely chose to be green in my mother's womb just to punish him for some action he committed during my gestation that I knew nothing about.

Well, now I've got everything I ever dreamed of and more. I'm normal, no longer green. I look normal. It's an amazing transformation, partly of my own doing during a surprise visit from the Wizard. I never expected to see him sat there with Morrible when I had been called to her office this morning; I was expecting a reprimand for my overly opinionated history essay. He gave me some pages from some old book as a gift. I hadn't meant to read them aloud, but I did, not realising the significance of my words.

Not until I felt the searing pain run through my body before watching in dismay as the green of my skin seemed to seep away into my cells, leaving nothing but creamy white skin, similar to Nessarose's complexion.

But before this happened, I was Elphaba - the shy and quiet green girl that always sat alone, studied dutifully and fought the battles that no one else would fight; fighting for the Animals, for those less fortunate, for those unable to defend themselves.

Now I'm just plain old Elphaba, as pink-skinned as my sister. A nobody.

It feels strange to be able to walk down the streets without people stopping to stare, to point or to whisper. The children of those small-minded parents are no longer reduced to tears when they see me walk by. In fact, now they smile and even say 'hello'. To have been shunned and avoided for nigh-on twenty years, and now suddenly to be accepted and welcomed, it's bizarre.

It's something that will take a long time to adjust to, although after this afternoon's events, I'm wondering if it is worth adjusting to.

I went shopping this afternoon for my usual groceries in my favourite near-by village. While the village was very much behind the technological advances of Shiz and the Emerald City, the quality of their homegrown produce was worth the extra trek through the forest and past the city limits. Their believes and prejudices were, however, just as prehistoric as their technology, which always made for an 'interesting' shopping trip.

Picking up my basket, I headed out following the normal route, with each passing step preparing myself mentally for the regular weekly arguments I always encountered with the local shopkeepers. Sadly, it was those sellers that were desperate to help feed their families that would always serve me. And while they would always avoid physical contact with me, they took my custom. For some reason, I take pity on them every time, paying slightly more than I need to and insisting they keep the change. Fearful of their green customer, they never argue.

But this time everything was so different.

As I got closer to the village, it was apparent I had just missed the market. People were leaving by wagon and by foot, pigs and sheep in boxes and on ropes. I passed through the middle of a large crowd, but no one stopped, no one said anything, in fact it was as if no one saw me. A young lad of no older than 15, bumped into me. He grunted an apology in my direction and then headed on his way.

I stood dumbfounded on the dirt track. Never had anyone bumped into me, let alone apologised and walked off with no further comments. People always took steps to avoid being anywhere near me. They tried not to make their actions appear obvious, but of course I always noticed.

But today, as I entered the village, the sun shone high in the sky and there was a strange air about the place. Everyone seemed happy. Everyone was friendly, greeting each other with a 'hello' or 'good afternoon'; the gentlemen tipping their hats, the ladies smiling politely back. The greetings were even pitched in my direction. I didn't know what to do, so I just replied with an uneasy curl of my lips.

I continued down the small road that was lined with the main trading shops, the streets filled with other shoppers who continued about their business oblivious to me. How can one small physical detail be so influential in how people change their reaction to me and the way they treat me?

I'm not so sure I can get used to being 'one of the crowd'. It's just doesn't seem right. I feel like I'm beginning to miss the emerald skin that haunted me my whole life. At least when I was an oddity I knew where I stood with people. I was their enemy, or at least that's how they perceived me. And now? Now I don't know. Am I their friend? Or foe? It's so difficult to tell anymore.

As I went on my way, no mothers hauled their precious offspring roughly across the road as they tried to protect them from me. I noticed that none of the shops were suddenly 'Out to Lunch', the shutters drawn and the doors locked tightly shut, despite the fact that I knew the exact opposite was true. And for once, I had no doors slammed rudely in my face with aggressive and vulgar comments insisting that my custom was not welcomed.

The village's well, which sat central to this tiny dwelling, was the hangout for a group of young lads who I have always wanted to cast a spell or two on to teach them a lesson for the crude comments they would yell, or the spitting that would take place in my direction. Today however, they ignored my presence and continued to leer at a timid young woman.

They could still be taught a lesson or two, I see though.

I stopped in front of my favourite shop. Well, it would have been my favourite shop had I ever been allowed to shop there. Week in and week out I would attempt to go through the wooden door to browse the wonderful collection of antique furniture that lay just beyond my reach, but I always got the same response – a indignant scoff and a door slam.

But not today!

I was able to walk straight through the door that had been my barricade since discovering this backwards village. I spent a good hour just looking around, the clerk happy to help me and answer any questions I had. Never once did he hesitate to come near me, or have that pleading 'please don't talk to me' look dancing in his eyes.

Leaving the shop empty-handed, but with a promise to return next week, I went searching for the ingredients for dinner. With father arriving this evening, I had set out to purchase the contents for the only dish I had ever cooked that received even the smallest of praise from him – my 'Casserole Surprise'. Some of my more 'special' ingredients were harder to find, but with access to the General Store, somewhere else I had never visited before, I was able to pick them up with ease. Although I noticed how everything I purchased was suddenly more expensive.

Funny how, now these people are no longer afraid of me, they are more willing to haggle a better deal for themselves. By the time I started back to Shiz, I noticed that there was nearly an 80 hike in my grocery bill total compared to my usual spending.

On my way home, I made sure to stop in the forest to speak with some of the Animals that I knew were hiding out there, although they were suddenly very wary about speaking to me; something about not trusting people of my 'colour'. They didn't trust the colour - the 'white' colour - of my skin? How laughable is that?

But how am I supposed to fight for these Animals when they don't even have faith in me, and just because of my skin colour. Just because I'm no longer green, I'm no longer trusted by these creatures who I'm risking my life to protect and to petition for.

And when I went to dinner tonight, my father just looked at me. He said nothing about my radical… 'change'. Instead, I just served up our meal and sat in silence as he lavished my sister with praise and attention. Why did he still detest me? What have I done that's so wrong? I was now what he always wanted me to be – normal. But still he was ignoring me, despite not being green. Was there nothing I could do to gain his approval?

He stayed with Nessarose this evening, sending me away after supper without so much as a 'good night'. So here I am, alone in my room (Galinda is out with her friends), no longer green, but still alone. And if it's at all possible, I feel even lonelier now than I did with my green skin.

I've not been green for less than 24-hours, and already I regret getting everything I wanted. It might not have been easy being green, but at least I knew who I was.

When I woke up this morning I knew who I was. Now I don't. I'm no longer 'the green girl'. I'm no longer 'me'. And you know what? That scares me. I don't like it. I feel so naked, so exposed without that emerald tint to my body.

Without it, I've lost my identity; I've lost who I am.

I want 'me' back.

I wish I were green again.


End file.
